Harry Potter and the Darkness Within
by Mackenzie Thea
Summary: An alternate fifth book invovling the war between Voldemort and Dumbledore
1. "Nothing To Do With You-Know-Who"

DISCLAIMER: Any likeness to the Harry Potter book series or characters there in is completely intentional. All the rights of Harry Potter belong to people other than me (Warner Brothers, Random House, J. K. Rowling, etc.). This story is 100% not approved by the writer of Harry Potter, should she ask me to lay off I would bow to her wishes. Oh, and this story is also LOADED with Harry Potter: 4 spoilers so if you haven't read Goblet of Fire, might wanna wait on this story.   
  
  
  
Harry Potter and the Darkness Within   
by Mackenzie Thea  
  
  
Chapter 1  
"Nothing to do with You-Know-Who"  
  
  
  
While his arch nemesis was plotting his cruel and messy demise, Harry Potter slept. But it was not a good sleep, the sleep someone who had just cheated death once yet again would embrace. It was a truly terrifying sleep, the kind where you dream bone-chilling heart stopping sinister dreams ... that you know are real. This was the sleep that met Harry every time he laid his head to rest as of late. So there he lay, deep in a dream of his enemies slowing planning his death, with nothing he could do to stop them or the dream itself.  
  
  
It was just before dawn when Harry awoke with a start, his dreams were getting worse with each passing night. He tried to convince himself that his dreams were not real, but to no avail. He knew they must be true. He'd be a fool not to think that Voldemort was boiling with rage that Harry's death had once again eluded him, just as it had fourteen years ago. Now Harry was left dazed, stunned with raw emotions of fear and hate and an incredible sense that there wasn't anything he could do. Harry swung his feet over the side of the bed and shivered. Sirius had told him in an owl to tell him and Dumbledore everything he could remember of his dreams.  
  
"...As scary as it must sound, you are linked with Him and that link might just be his downfall, anything you remember could help us destroy him..."  
  
So Harry staggered over to his desk in the darkness (the sun had just barely kissed the morning sky) for a quill and ink. At that moment Hedwig, Harry's faithful and beautiful messenger owl, flew in through Harry's barely open window with two things in her beak; a note and a newspaper.   
  
"Morning Hedwig..." Harry muttered drowsily wondering if he had subscribed to the Daily Prophet. As Hedwig swooped down on to Harry's desk beside him he realized that he hadn't subscribed, so he took the note and the paper (which was indeed The Daily Prophet) from Hedwig and read the note first. He tore it open to see the familiar and neat handwriting of one of his best friends, Hermoine Granger. This made sense, the last errand he'd sent Hedwig on was to Hermoine. He sent her a note asking for help with his Potions study work he'd gotten for the Holidays. In actuality he hadn't heard from Hermione in about a month and wanted to know she was okay. Harry stroked Hedwig back as he read Hermione note.  
  
"Dear Harry,  
  
First of all if you add the Chimera Scales before letting the Unicorn Mane Hairs and BillyWigg Wings boil the cauldron will turn to crystal, so, yes there is something wrong with your formula. Secondly, Hedwig has with her a copy of today's Daily Prophet with an article highlighted in it. Please read the article, it is about all that has happened with the recent attack on Godric's Hollow and He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named. But, as you will see, Minister Fudge still denies everything that happened last term. I hope your dreams get better, Harry. But you say that your scar is not hurting? Well, that must be a good sign, right? If you need any more help, with anything not just school work, don't hesitate to write.  
  
All my love,  
Hermione"  
  
Hermoine is right, thought Harry, my scar hasn't hurt all summer, that must be a good sign.  
Harry blinked, he had slept the night but his eyes stung as though he been watching a blazing fire for hours. Harry yawned, then he turned to pick up the newspaper Hermione had sent, ignoring Hedwig who glared at the lack of attention and before retreating to her cage for water. Harry unfolded the newspaper and, sure enough, one article was highlighted in green, Harry read it with rapt silence.  
  
"Fudge cries 'Nothing To Do With You-Know-Who'  
  
Last week the sanctity of Godric's Hollow was horribly vandalized leaving the victims families crying out for more than justice.   
"We want revenge!" Says one house wife, 48 year old Mabel Ashsot who lost both her husband John, 51, and best friend Sharon Silling, 34, in last weeks attack. "We didn't do anything. John didn't do anything! We didn't deserve what we got..."   
The witness stopped, breaking into great sobs and unable to continue. But she is not the only one, many others, like Mabel lost as much as their families and houses to Dark Wizards last week. Although many believe that it was not just a group of out of control wizards, but a Brigade led by none other then He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named come back.   
One corespondent, Phineas Diggle has such to say on the matter.  
'We've got to be sensible,' says Diggle, 52. 'We all know this wasn't a handful of crazy guys! They was working for someone and even if it isn't You-Know-Who we need to prepare ourselves for who e'er 'twas!'  
  
So the question is, who is at fault? And who to blame? At time of press Minister Corneilius Fudge denies all rumors that the Dark Lord has risen and claims that the three incidents the death of Cedric Diggory, Amos Diggory's (from Departedment for the Regulation and control of Magical Creatures) son, the burning of the muggle town of Little Hangleton which killed nearly thirty muggles and the recent attack now known as the 'Godric's Hollow Massacre'. Even though the Dark Mark was seen in the sky at the latter incidents.   
This reporter went incognito to get the story from the muggles who saw it. One muggle, 62 year old Brand Gilman, testified seeing exactly what happened (before the ministry came and Charmed his memory).   
  
'There was a bald guy, big and lanky,' said Gilman. 'And this short guy, small sorta with a fancy gray glove on. Them and a bunch o' masked men set fire to the old Riddle Manor, but that was okay since nobody was in there what with Frank Bryce's body found out in the street 'bout a fortnight before. At least that's where the fire started, then it spread like... fire.'  
  
The 'tall, lanky' man Mr. Gilman referred to is believed, by some, to be none other than the Dark Lord himself. The 'short' man he refers to is believed to be Arthur Fenton who as of last August worked for the Ministry of Magic's Department of Magical Zoology's cataloging division. Sixteen days before the Quidditch World Cup he took off work and has not been seen or heard from since. On representative from his department, Alfred Levington, 38, had this to say.  
  
'Arthur is a good man, honest and hard working, he used to be mixed up with You-Know-Who, but he isn't anymore. He had taken off work with leave for the Quidditch World Cup, I don't know where he is now but I hope he is safe, poor sod.'  
  
Alfred Levington stated also that he and a group of Arthur Fentons coworkers will serve as character witnesses if need be but that he had to leave now because he had to meet a shipment of BillyWiggs to make sure that the shipment contained no smuggled new breeds.  
  
Minister Fudge, when asked for comment, had this to say.  
'These attacks are, uh, sad, yes, indeed, er, tragic, quite. But weee...we at the Ministry of Magic, are, uh, sure, yes, quite sure that they have, er, not-nothing to do with You-Know-Who... yes.. that is, that is all."  
  
But when this reported asked why, if The Dark Lord was not involved, was the Dark Mark present at the last two attacks only to see the Minister defensively yell 'Shut Up!'  
However it is said that not only was the Dark Mark present at the Godric's Hollow Massacre, but so was He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named! One witness, who asked to remain anonymous, saw the Dark Lord and now recalls what he saw.  
  
'I saws ''im, saws 'im as clears as I sees you! Wai' where are ye? O there ya are, well any who I saws the Dark Lordy last week! Riding a two heade-three headed Nundu he wus! He opind his mouth and blaising FIRE come, rush-rush-running outta it! He spoke a weird tongue, sorta loud and uh, I dunno, mighta ben English....'  
  
This witness, too, found himself unable to speak as he had passed out.  
Last week, here in Godric's Hollow, over sixty muggle born wizards were tortured and killed. Despite the official word from the Ministry, He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named is the prime suspect even though no-one can fathom how he came back, or why the Ministry would deny rather than take action.   
Whatever the reason, whoever the killer, the families of those that died are now left to pick up the pieces. Their souls may, however, take solace in the fact that Albus Dumbledore himself is thoroughly investigating the matter."  
  
At those last words of the article, Harry's heart lightened. He thought of Professor Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The most learned and wise and powerful Wizard, probably in all the world. If there was anyone who would solve all of this, it was him. Dumbledore was, after all, the only Wizard Voldemort was afraid of and didn't dare mess with. At Voldemort downfall fourteen years ago, Dumbledore was asked to be Minister of Magic, but he refused saying his place was at Hogwarts.   
Harry intertwined his fingers and stretched them, they made a satisfying pop. Harry reach across the desk for his ink and parchment, but it was then that he realized. He had forgotten everything he had dreamt! 


	2. The Second Protector

DISCLAIMER: Not one single solitary thing to do with Harry Potter is mine! (Except the memories... *Sigh*) It all belongs to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishing's, Random House Publishing's (?), and Warner Bros. Entertainment. Please do not attempt to sue me or I will hex you! Well,... I'll yell at you! Ha!   
  
  
Dedication: This chapter is dedicated to Mop Head and her Daemon, Lady Snape and Tin Heart, whose writings inspire me.  
  
Chapter Two  
The Second Protector  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Harry sat in the horror of his realization. How could he have forgotten? Harry closed his eyes but, no matter how much he strained, could not see what he had forgotten. What seemed impossible to forget, though, was the feeling he had gotten from the dream. It didn't vanish with the memory, it lingered almost as a last laugh. Harry put his hands over his face in shame of what he let happen.  
There was something in that dream, thought Harry, I know it. Something so important, and yet... Harry shook his head and yawned again, the room was getting lighter now, and Aunt Petunia could be heard shuffling around downstairs making breakfast. Harry was brought back to reality, it was morning and he should go down to breakfast. But for a few minutes he just sat there, straining, thinking.   
I remember, thought Harry wincing as a physical manifestation of his inner struggle, there was something ... beautiful. Not like a girl, like a light ... or a cloud? Harry shook his head and stood from his chair. He felt the whole exercise was futile, he couldn't remember anything.   
  
Harry made his way down the stairs and to the breakfast table, the coarse he had taken for four summers now seemed as new and confusing as a track in the woods. When he got to the table he was the only one there, so he seated himself and took to gazing around the room. He had sat at that table, in that kitchen for fourteen years and nothing about it (save the tulips in the middle of the table) had changed. But he looked at it all like some history museum, it all seemed so different and far away from him.   
  
But nothing was different or new, he simply was looking at it all through new eyes. Eyes that had seen terror, eyes that had seen death. Eyes that gaze upon the face of the most psychotic wizard who ever walk the face of the Earth. The one image from that night that stayed with him, was that of his parents. Harry had seen them in the Mirror of Erised but never talked to them, never met them. But now he saw them in every shadow, every time he closed his eyes. This wasn't a good thing though, for now that he knew what his father, mother and Lord Voldemort looked like, he now had a pretty good visual of what happened that night fourteen years ago.   
Harry shivered trying to shake himself away from that image. At that moment Uncle Vernon entered the kitchen.  
  
"What's the matter boy? Got the plague?" Uncle Vernon asked, and then preceded to laugh at his own joke.   
  
The sound of Uncle Vernon's voice annoyed Harry. It had all Harry could do, all summer, to keep himself from strangling him and scream "Don't you know what's happening?!" But Harry took a deep breath and reminded himself that the Dursleys didn't know what was going on. And that it wouldn't be a good idea to tell them that a psychopathic evil Wizarding overlord bent on taking over the world could at any moment burst through the door and kill Harry and anybody that stood in his way.   
Not that the Dursleys would stand in his way, they would happily hand over Harry and a fruit basket should the moment come. As Harry stared at his milk glass a thought occurred to him. Voldemort said he couldn't touch Harry while he was in "his relations care", did that mean as long as he was with the Dursleys he couldn't kill Harry?   
  
Harry and the Dursleys ate in silence, they didn't know what had happened but perhaps Harrys emotions were contagious because they seemed in a state of mourning. That is, more so than usual. Harry finished breakfast and went back to his room. He paced around the room turning over what he had read in his mind.  
Fudge still denies it all, thought Harry, so Dumbledore hasn't been able to sway him yet. But he knows in his heart what happened last term. He can't deny forever.   
Questions filled Harrys mind. What measures had Dumbledore already taken? Had he been successful in telling anyone "who could be persuaded of the truth"? How many of his kind still believed Fudge? What was Voldemort's next move going to be?   
Harry sighed and sat on his bed. For the past month he had dreamt of Voldemort planing things such as the massacre at Godric's Hollow, but he had not been shown when they would happen, or where. It was very confusing to Harry, who didn't even fully understand the connection he shared with Voldemort. Harry let himself fall on to his back in his bed, searching his mind for anything that could bring him clarity. He found nothing. Not a thing that could show him how to deal with everything that was happening around him. A familiar sense of futility filled him, he didn't want to move, he didn't want to breathe. But he did, he had to if for no other reason then to maintain the connection. Harry left his room and the house for a walk, finding it impossible to think in all the nerve-wrecking silence.  
  
Harry walked for a while, wandering around as though looking for something. He didn't know what it was though. Every face he saw seemed leering, every smile seemed insincere. He looked at the people he say wondering, has Voldemort gotten to them yet? Do they even know what is to come?   
  
As Harry walked he found himself in a nearby park, it was the same park that Dudley had learned to ride a bicycle in. Again that strange feeling of familiarity but distantness. Harry walked for what seemed like an hour before he realized he was being watched. By whom, he didn't know, but he knew he was. He could feel watchful eyes burning into the back of his head. Harry thought to himself, should he look about? Or would that just make the watcher paranoid? Within a few minutes Harry had devised a plan. He was going to circle left and walk down an alley in-between a grocery store and a paint supplies store. There if someone wanted to watch him they would have to make themselves more visible.   
  
Harry walked into the alley, an all to familiar tingle in his chest, that feeling that he was about to face danger. Harry was about to turn around when he was tackled from behind! He squirmed around to see who had tackled him ... it was Sirius! Sirius was looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had seen him transform, it was, after all, a huge risk. Seeing no-one his eyes turned back to Harry, a stern look on his face.  
  
"Harry! Are you crazy, going into an alley like this! I could have been a dark wizard, you could be dead right now!"   
  
"Actually I went into this alley to try and trap whoever was following me I guess that was you." Harry said gruffly as Sirius helped him to his feet.  
  
Sirius' stern face broke into a smile and he shook his head.  
"Dumbledore sent me to watch over you, his first protection has fallen through."  
  
Harry looked at Sirius confused.  
"First protec-?"  
  
"Arrabella Figg, she is a witch that Dumbledore put in place to watch over you while you grew up. She died last week in the Godric's Hollow Massacre."   
  
Harry ran this through his mind. Yes, that would be right. He had overheard Uncle Vernon tell his wife a week ago that Mrs. Figg has passed away while visiting relatives abroad. Once the shock of the realization that Mrs. Figg was a witch passed Harry felt sad. Harry looked up into Sirius' eyes, the had a strange look in them, one that Harry couldn't read. Sirius noticed Harry's gaze and said by ways of an explanation.  
  
"Godric's Hollow is where Remus lives, and where I was staying. I wasn't there when it happened but Remus says it was ... it was a terror." Sirius glanced away for a few moments,   
Harry noticed that his eyes were very blood shot, then he looked back at Harry.   
  
"Remus wasn't hurt!" He said quickly, accurately reading Harry facial expression. "The Dark Lord didn't come near his house, but, it was a close thing..." he paused for a moment. The pause of someone considering many things in their mind. Then he said something unexpected.  
"There isn't anywhere safe is there? Harry, do you know the History of Godric's Hollow?"  
  
Harry shook his head, though he didn't know what this had to do with anything.  
  
"Godric Gryffindor was, obviously, the founder of Godric's Hollow. He created it as a sort of sanctuary for muggle-born wizards. You see the love of his life, Rowena Ravenclaw, was killed because she was a muggle-born, and he wanted to ensure that no muggle-born would have to die because of how they were born. He put all sorts of spells on that Hollow, but through the years they faded. There was a prophecy.. well never mind, there's are more important issues at hand right now. Do you know of a night we can meet here in the park? As it stands I still can't be seen in human form, the muggle police are still looking for me."  
  
Harry thought for a minute.  
  
"Wensday, two days from now. At nine o'clock?"  
  
Sirius nodded in agreement.  
"I'll see you then, be careful Harry and keep in touch. Hedwig will know where to find me. Let me know if you have anymore dreams."  
  
And with that Sirius turned into the great black dog that was Padfoot and, with one last look back at Harry, ran away towards the park. Harrys eyes never left him, but soon the dog did disapear from sight.  
  
As Harry walked back to the Dursleys house he was still in low spirits but felt them somehow rising. Suddenly something small hit him on the side of the head, he immediately looked around to see who had thrown it, but no-one was there. He bent over to see that it was a crumpled up piece of paper. It had seven words on it that made Harry's blood rise.  
  
"Go back to the muggles now. Run." 


	3. The Invitation

DISCLAIMER: Harry Potter doesn't belong to me! If you are J. K. Rowling, please call me, I would love to meet you! Where was I? Oh yes, Harry Potter and the affilated characters belong to J. K. Rowling, Bloomsbury Publishings, and Warner Bros. Entertainment. If you are someones lawyer reading this disclaimer, you'll never take me alive!  
  
By popular demand (more speccifically Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa) the long awaited next chapter you guys are tired of waiting for.  
  
Dedication: This ones for Skye, Mel, Torra, Linny, Celste, Sonya, Prism, and, of course, Tin. My angels.  
  
Harry Potter and the Darkness Within  
by Mackenzie Thea  
  
Chapter 3  
The Invitation  
  
~~~~~~  
Harry's heart again pounded rapidly. He looked around franticly, no-one was there. At least, he couldn't see anyone. A thousand questions pounded their path into Harry's mind at the same instant. Who is this from? Are they with Dumbledore or Voldemort? Is it a warning or a trap? Should I listen to them? What will happen if I don't?   
  
Harry went with his gut instinct and ran for the Dursleys house. Probably because of the voice he heard in his head, saying over and over again "In his realtions care", "In his realtions care." But would he be safe there? Is there anywhere safe anymore?  
  
Harry ran up number four, sliding on something as he went up the drive way, and ran to the side of the house. He entered through the kitchen, slamming the door behind him and did not stop running until he reached his room. He locked the door and pushed his bed against it. He didn't know what else to do, so he lie down on his bed. He was shaking all over, he heard voices down stairs. They were that of his Aunt and Uncle, or were they? Could Voldemort mock voices? He heard Dudley's sarcastic sneer, he knew Voldemort couldn't reproduce that menacing annoyance, he wondered if Draco Malfoy could be that powerfully annoying. Harry heard a tapping on his window, he srung forward from his bed. It was Hedwig, hovering outside his window, a note in her beak.   
  
Harry raced to the window, unlocked it but then hesitated. Why was he? Wasn't this ruteen by now? Hedwig would come to the window, Harry would open it, and Hedwig would fly in and give him his mail. But now it was diffrent, it was suspicius, Hedwig coming in the daytime to deliver a letter. Harry looked around on the ground level, no-one was there. Harry slowly undid the lock, Hedwig looking at him like he was insane-army-dude, and opened the window, just enough for Hedwig to fly through, and then shut and locked it quickly when she had.  
  
"Sorry old girl, be we cant be too careful now-a-days..." He said stoking her head. She chirped as if to say he was forgiven and droped his note into his hand. Harry looked down at the note, the handwriting, it was from his best friend Ron Weasley!   
  
Harry tore open the letter and read it, much of his sadness depleating.  
  
"Harry,  
  
How you you? Those muggles aren't treating you too bad? Have you heard about what happened in Godric's Hollow? It scared me a lot, we have relatives there, but they weren't there when it happened. Hermione said she was going to mail you an article about it, seeing as how you don't get the Daily Prophet. No matter what said that was the work of You-Know-Who! You know that don't you? But, as weird as this sounds, what with the Massacre and all, he hasn't done anything devastating yet. I know, you probably think I'm crazy, but from what dad used to tell us he used to do muggle-born killings like this twice a day. And why is he still hiding? He hasn't shown himself aside from his killings, it doesn't make sense. Well, I'm ranting, please mail me back Harry, I want to know that you are alright.  
  
Ron  
  
P.S. Mum says she has Dumbledore permission and that you can come to stay with us for the rest of the summer. Please send me a reply soon."  
  
Harry sighed, all the things Ron had said were good points, but he didn't know if he wanted to visit Ron this summer. He wanted to, but he wanted to be here where Sirius was looking after him. He didn't want to leave Sirius, the thought of it gave him a strange aphrehensive feeling he didn't understand.  
I'll wait to reply to this, thought Harry looking down at the letter, and I'll ask Sirius what he thinks I should do. Harry re-read through the letter quickly again and shook his head, he couldn't wait, Ron had told him to write back imediatly. If he didn't Ron would worry about his well-being. Harry put the note down on his desk and reached for a clean sheet of parchment, he was writing Sirius.  
No, he thought to himself with a smile, I'm writing Snuffles.  
The draft he sent went something like this.  
  
"Snuffles,  
  
Something has come up, Ron invited me to his house to stay until school starts, he says Mrs. Weasley got permission from Dumbledore. What should I do? Should I stay here where you can keep an eye on me or should I go to Ron's house? What do you think Sirius, what should I do?  
  
Harry"  
  
He didn't read through the letter, he waited until night and he gave the Hedwig to take to Sirius. He opened the window again, this time without a trace of apprehension, and watched her soar away into the night sky.  
  
A sudden re-laspe of memory stuck Harry as he watched her fly away, he remember in his dream a phoenix. Larger than Fawkes, black and gold flying away into the night. Harry sat dazed in the pale moonlight, his one memory overtaking him. He got a strange feeling from the sight of the phoenix in flight, a feeling he couldn't put into words. A feeling of safety, and security, but also of wonder and mystery. It could be likened, crudly, to the paradoxical feeling of knowing someone all you life and still seeing something in their eyes that was not aloud for you to know.   
  
But what Harry didn't know was that feeling, as close as anything felt to him now, was going to be his saving grace. But he didn't know, how could he when he had yet to remember that part of his dream?   
  
Harry tried for a short while to remember anything else of his dream, he thought that perhaps since that one image had presented itself others would follow. He realized soon that he was wrong and, moreso, he was tired.  
  
He walked over to his bed, undressing for the night, but shot one more glance out the window. He smiled as he noticed it was a full moon, his smile became more solemn as he thought of his teacher and friend Remus Lupin. He wondered how Lupin was, and silently prayed for him. He was, after all, all alone.   
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Note from the author:  
This chapter was short because everyone was demanding another of me and because I seem to be suffering from the rounding epidemic of writers block. The next chapter will be longer and from Lupin's POV.  
And allow me to thank all of the kind people who review, it means a lot to me. *hint hint* 


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